New Kid In School
by lovestorywithatwist
Summary: Steve Rogers moves from a small town on the outskirts of New York to the middle of Los Angeles, where he has to go to a new 'rich-kid' school where he barely fits in. It doesn't help that Tony Stark, easily the most popular guy there, pegs him right away and continues to make his life miserable. Despite the constant teasing, though, Steve can't shake the feelings Tony gives him.
1. Chapter 1

_**Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters, nor do I profit from this writing. It's purely for my own and other's enjoyment.**_

**Author's Note: **This is my first stony fic, so I hope you all like it. Feedback of any form is always welcome!

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Steve stared up at the colossal building in front of him as he anxiously shifted the weight of his backpack on his shoulder. It towered four stories high, and spread out three times the length of his old school. It was three times more impressive as well, with huge lawns sprawling out back, and even a courtyard complete with a fountain and dainty stone benches. It was breathtaking, but in a _so-panicked-you-can't-breathe_ sort of way. And right now, the front was completely empty. Apparently he couldn't even go the first day without being late.

With a soft sigh, Steve started towards the great glass doors. He caught a glimpse of his reflection – pale face, golden hair ruffled around his forehead, dark jeans and a light blue t-shirt – before swinging it open to enter a new, terrifying world that was too big and filled with too many people. Immediately Steve wished he was back in his old city at his old high school, completing his last year before graduation with all of the people he knew - not in this posh, rich-kid school that he was only going to because his mother found a possible job here.

Not that he could blame her. They were originally a poor family, and it only got worse when his father died. Steve knew his mother tried hard to give him the best she could with the little that they had, but a part of him still wished they were struggling through back on the edges of New York rather than the middle of Los Angeles.

But instead of his old, comforting, relaxed school, he was stuck in this. Everything looked prim, and perfect, and expensive. The walls were a steely sort of grey, and there were great windows everywhere, including on the ceiling. The whole interior was very modern, but also had a futuristic feel.

Steve was jolted out of his thoughts, however, by a loud '_ehem_' and a pat on the shoulder. He turned to see a short, round lady dressed in a blue flower print blouse and a dark pinstripe skirt. She smiled, though her beady black eyes roamed over him in a disapproving manner.

"Why aren't you in class?" she asked sweetly.

"Oh. Uhm, my name is Steve Rogers. We just moved here, and I-," he started, but was cut across by the lady's light laugh.

"Dear, I don't know all the new students by name. Come to the office and we'll get you signed in. You do realize you are late?"

Steve stared at her, trying not to gape. "Well, yes, I do. I'm sorry, next time-," she cut across him a second time.

"Next time you won't be late, will you, dear?" The lady smiled again, then turned to lead him through more glass doors into what he assumed must be the office. "Because this is your first day, I'll let you off with a warning. But this school is the most prestigious in town, and we don't tolerate misbehavior here. Is that understood?"

Steve nodded his consent, but he didn't think she saw. She didn't seem like she had expected an answer anyways. They stopped at the front desk, in which the lady squeezed behind and sat in a chair that groaned beneath her weight. Her sausage-like fingers skittered quickly over the keyboard in front of her.

"Steve Rogers, you said? Yes, well, here is your schedule."

The printer on the edge of the desk spit out a piece of paper and the Lady examined it for a second before handing it over to Steve. She then grabbed a pamphlet out of a plastic stand and opened it up to reveal a map of the school. She took out a red pen and marked off a few places.

"I've circled your classes. I trust you can find them? I'll call Professor Banner to let him know you're late for his Physics class," she glanced up once at Steve, disapproving again, before handing him the map as well. "Now, go to your class," she ordered, ushering him out of the office.

Steve hurried out and headed down the hall, wanting to get away from the lady as quickly as possible. He only stopped once he got around the corner, and pulled out the map to look at it. It was just as, if not more, confusing than the school itself. Steve groaned, heading down the hallway he hoped would take him to his first class.

_Room B344, Room B344…._ Where was it? He was in section C, somewhere in the one hundreds. _Oh, floor three. Right._

Steve found some stairs and headed up several sets until he was at a hallway labelled C3. He roamed past at least fifteen different classrooms, looking for hallway B. Eventually he turned a corner and saw a classroom called '_Earth Science: B336_'. Steve breathed a sigh of relief and walked slowly down the hall until he found the room '_Physics: B344_'. Through the little window Steve could see who he guessed was Professor Banner animatedly describing something at the front of the class.

Steve glanced around him once, then back to the classroom door. He didn't particularly want to go in half-way through class and endure the stares of everyone else in there, but he didn't have much of a choice if the lady downstairs really had called ahead. With one deep breath, he knocked lightly on the door, then opened it slowly.

Professor Banner turned to him, smiling widely. "Ah, are you Steve?"

He nodded, inching his way through the doorway.

"Wonderful! Class, this is our new student, Steve Rogers. Where are you from?"

Steve answered a couple of the teacher's questions, though he was distracted the whole time by all the students staring at him. Well, all save two, both of whom were oblivious he had entered, probably because they were too busy laughing loudly about something. One of them was short with mousy brown hair and Steve's eyes grazed over him pretty fast. The second, though, held a sort of air around him that demanded attention.

He was sitting in a relaxed manner, yet seemed to tower above the other people in the class as if he thought – no, knew – he was better than everyone else. The way other people glanced at him gave him a very arrogant feel. Granted, he _was_ handsome; he had a very attractive build, not too buff but nicely toned and muscled, which showed easily through his tight white t-shirt. His dark brown hair was brushed up and splayed perfectly over his forehead. And he had a handsome enough face, too, made of smooth planes and angles to emphasize all the right parts, and even the beginning of a goatee. Lastly, his eyes were dark chocolate brown, and captivating, and… Staring right at him.

Steve hadn't even noticed the two boys stop laughing and start staring back at him. His face flushed red and he quickly looked away, appalled at himself.

"Are you two done? Show a little bit of respect to your peers," Professor Banner scolded them, then turned to Steve again. "You can go find a seat now. We're just starting Kinematics. Did you learn up to there in your last school?"

Steve nodded, then quickly hurried to the back of the class to sit in the corner across the guy he had accidentally been staring at. He didn't make eye contact with anyone else, instead pretending to be interested in taking out his books and paper.

Professor Banner resumed with his lecture and continued teaching, though Steve barely heard any of it. His thoughts were consumed by embarrassment and the will that his mom would announce that they were moving back to New York tomorrow. And, despite his rejection of the thought, Steve kept seeing the guy's eyes in his mind. It wasn't until the end of the class that he couldn't take it anymore and ended up glancing over at him again. And, just like the first time, his gaze met those deep brown pools.

Steve blushed furiously again and looked back down at his work. He could feel those eyes on him for the rest of class, though, and he once again cursed himself for ever walking into this classroom. It was a complete relief when the bell finally rang and everyone got up to leave. Breathing a sigh of relief, Steve started packing his things away until he noticed someone standing beside his desk.

He slowly looked up to see the same dark-haired guy standing in front of him, his eyebrows raised and a smirk splayed across his lips.

Steve's eyes widened slightly. He opened his mouth to say something – apologize, anything really – but the guy beat him to it.

"Tony Stark. And you're Steve, right?" he drawled out, swinging out a chair from a nearby desk to sit across from him. Steve barely nodded before Tony continued on, leaning back in the chair as he did and lacing his hands behind his head. "Look, Steve, you seem like a nice guy – which is why I'm going to help you out. I'm kind of the – what would you call it, top dog? – around here, so I am the one person you don't want to get caught up with. And, despite your cuter-than-average ass, I just don't think it would work out."

Steve gaped at Tony, his words barely registering. "My _what_?"

"So," Tony continued, mostly ignoring him, "I just don't want you to think there's any chance where there isn't one. It's just not really fair, you know?" he stood up, stretching. "See ya around then, Stevie."

With that, Tony picked up his backpack and sauntered out of the classroom, not even sparing a second glance back. Steve stared after him, somewhat confused, but mostly shocked. Did Tony just… Did he really think he… When it had been _him_ staring at…

Steve groaned, putting his face in his hands. First day of school and not only was he late and could barely find his classes, but he'd practically made enemies with the most popular guy, who also happened to think he was gay and in love with him. A small voice added, _he also thinks you have a cute ass_.

Steve internally snarled at it to shut up and he quickly grabbed his bags and flipped out his map to see what other classes he'd have to endure by the end of the day.

Clearly he wasn't off to a good start.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters, nor do I profit from this writing. It's purely for my own and other's enjoyment.**_

**Author's Note: **This chapter is so late, I'm so sorry! I nearly forgot about this fic. I decided to post another chapter though, and will continue for awhile. Promise! Just nag at me if I'm not updating!

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After physics, Steve had art class. He wouldn't exactly say he was good at art, but he needed credits in some sort of arts program to graduate, so this is what he had settled on. The class went by fairly quickly and the teacher was nice, so he figured he wouldn't have too many problems with it. And, much to his relief, Tony Stark wasn't in his class.

Thinking back to earlier still had Steve blushing in embarrassment. And he didn't seem to be able to get those eyes out of his head, either. He figured it was some form of post-traumatic stress or something – being unable to get those calculating brown orbs from flashing occasionally in front of his face.

At least it was lunch now, and Tony, being popular and all, would be somewhere in the middle of the school cafeteria. So, at least he would be easy enough to avoid for the time being.

Steve grabbed his lunch from his locker – at least he remembered the code right – and went back to the cafeteria to sit somewhere off by the side. He couldn't help glancing to the middle of the room to make sure Tony was actually there (he was) before relaxing enough to pull out his sandwich and eat. He tried not to think too much of this morning and instead focused on the homework he had so far, and some of the theory on kinematics, before a small cough interrupted his thought trail.

Steve looked up in surprise to see a girl staring down at him from the opposite side of the table. She had thick, dark red hair that framed a pretty, rounded face. Her eyes were almond-shaped and tinted green, and also narrowed slightly at him. He was pretty sure she sat in front of him in his Physics class.

"I usually sit here," she said bluntly, though her voice was smooth.

Steve blinked once, then frowned slightly. "Oh, uhm, I'm sorry. I can move-," he started grabbing his lunch, but the girl sat down and waved her hand at him.

"Oh, Its fine I suppose. I could use a bit of company. You're Steve, right? Just moved her from New Jersey or something?"

"New York."

"Right. I'm Natasha," she smiled slightly, grabbing her own sandwich off her lunch tray and biting down on it. Steve just watched her for a second, a little taken aback at how easily she was able to sit with a complete stranger. She also kept glancing up at him like she wanted to say something.

It didn't take her long to cut to the chase.

"Hey, I couldn't help but overhear you and Tony…"

Steve choked a bit on the water he was trying to swallow, coughing a few times as his cheeks burned red again. Oh god, were people talking about it now? Had Tony already spread rumors?

"Oh. Right," he mumbled, trying not to look too mortified. Natasha chuckled at him, picking up a French fry and sticking it in her mouth.

"Don't worry too much, Tony's always like that. Wouldn't be surprised if he does like you, actually. He always bugs people he likes."

Steve laughed uncomfortably. "Right, he definitely sounded like he wanted to be my best friend," he said sarcastically. Natasha shrugged and bit down on her sandwich again.

"Oh well, Tony and Clint are jerks anyways," she muttered, glaring over her shoulder at the group of popular people sitting round the middle table of the cafeteria. Steve followed her gaze, seeing a group of jocks it looked like, all laughing at some sort of story the mousy-haired guy (that had been next to Tony in Physics class) was telling.

"Is that Clint? Talking right now?" he asked. Natasha nodded her head, then rolled her eyes.

"If you've ever met someone with a bigger ego than him, I'll eat my own shoe. Well, aside from Tony, of course."

Steve chuckled lightly, grabbing his own sandwich again. He suddenly realized he was alone talking to Natasha, and wondered if maybe he was keeping her from other friends.

"Oh, hey, uhm, if you have other people to talk to I understand. Not a lot of people would want to talk to me anyways, I'm not very interesting-," he started, but Natasha just laughed at him again.

"Yeah, a lot of people like to talk to the spider-freak," she sighed, her eyes cast for a second in shadow before she seemed to shake it off and take another bite of sandwich. Steve stared at her for a second, wanting to help somehow without prodding for information. He didn't particularly enjoy other people being nosy, so he figured they wouldn't like it either.

"Why would anyone call you that?" he finally asked, frowning slightly.

"Absolutely stupid…" she muttered, taking a deep breath. "In grade 8, a tarantula escaped from the aquarium of the science lab, and I caught it. Apparently it's weird for a girl to like spiders," she shrugged, her words barely bitter despite the sour look on her face. "Not that I care what those idiots think, anyways. It was only a spider, but no-one wanted to be around me after that. Guess nothing changes in four years."

Steve stared at her for a second in disbelief. "Why would anyone use that as a reason not to like you?" he asked, honestly confused. Back in New York everyone had a group, and some groups didn't like other groups, but not for a reason that stupid. He was starting to dislike this school more and more.

"I guess I'm also a bitch," Natasha grinned, finishing off her sandwich and swallowing. "But at least I'm only a bitch to the bitches."

Steve smiled lightly, deciding he liked Natasha. And honestly, now that he'd been caught staring at Tony Stark, he was probably going to be in the same boat as her. He figured it was only a matter of time before everyone avoided him completely. He already didn't fit in, and now he'd probably become completely alienated.

"Well, I think you're nice to talk to. No-one else has said anything to me," he told her honestly, taking another sip of water.

"Yeah, sorry about that. I might have scared everyone else off now," Natasha said, actually looking a bit guilty.

"No-one else was going to say hi anyways," he told her quickly, smiling earnestly. "By tomorrow I'm sure Tony will have convinced the whole school that I'm some crazy man stalker."

Natasha snorted, smiling lightly. "Probably," she agreed, grinning.

Steve shrugged, still smiling as he stood up. "Here, I'll throw out the garbage," he offered, picking up all their remains and sticking it on the lunch tray. At least now he maybe had a friend? He hadn't had many back in New York, just Bucky and Peggy. The thought of them conjured a lump in his throat. He missed them a lot already, especially after what happened today. Normally he would have them to fall back on, but right now he didn't really have anyone.

Still lost in thought, Steve dumped the garbage and started heading back to Natasha. He was suddenly jolted from his thoughts, however, when someone bumped roughly into his shoulder. He looked over to apologize, only to meet the same eyes that had been plaguing him all day. Tony's face was a mask on innocence, though his eyes danced slightly when they met Steve's.

"Sorry, Stevie, didn't see you there," the guy apologized, grinning widely in a way that said he had most definitely seen Steve, and had also deliberately walked into him.

Steve felt his face go red again as he tried to choke out an, "It's all right." Tony simply laughed at him, motioning to someone behind Steve to leave. Steve watched as Tony left with that guy, Clint, close behind him. He was frozen for a minute, watching Clint glance back at him then whisper something to Tony, to which Tony laughed in response and whispered something back.

Steve saw Tony just start to turn around and decided to leave before he could make more eye contact with him. He hurried back to his seat, still feeling his face hot, and wondered how he could blush so much in one day. Natasha stared at him as he sat down, eyebrows raised.

Steve coughed, shifting uncomfortably. "Uh, yeah, I don't think he likes me."

Natasha shook her head slightly, laughing. "Uhm, yeah, guess not. Unless he's flirting with you," she added teasingly with a wink. Steve laughed at that, shaking his head.

"At least my life can't get much worse, can it?" he smiled, just as the bell for third class rang. Steve stood reluctantly, really not wanting to see if Tony was in any more of his classes to further torment him.

"I guess I'll see you in physics, then?" he asked Natasha. She nodded her head, waving goodbye as she walked in the opposite direction he had to go.

Steve sighed, heading back to his locker to grab his binder. As he headed for English, he prayed he wouldn't find Tony already there.

Apparently the world decided to go easy on Steve for English class, because even ten minutes after the second bell had gone, Tony still hadn't showed up and Steve could come to the conclusion that he wasn't going to be there. It was a relaxing class, especially because Steve was actually good at English. He even sat beside someone nice.

Naturally, Steve was in a good mood when it was finally time for his last class of the day – PE. He might have even been OK for the rest of the school year if Tony was only in his first class. But, of course, the first thing he saw upon entering the guys change rooms was the toned back of none other than Tony Stark.

Maybe the world did hate him.


	3. Chapter 3

_**Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters, nor do I profit from this writing. It's purely for my own and other's enjoyment.**_

**Author's Note: **I'm sorry this took so long to update. I have a couple other fics going on, and school has been dumping lots of homework on me lately, so I haven't had a whole lot of time. I hope you all enjoy! Any form of feedback is always welcome (and if you spot grammar issues, please feel free to point them out, because I do not have a beta and I probably make loads of mistakes).

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"I know I have a nice body, but it's considered rude to stare."

Steve stiffened, wanting nothing more than to melt into the floor and pretend he didn't exist. He just got to this school, what could possibly cause Tony to tease him this much within the first day?

"Sorry," he muttered, keeping his eyes fixed firmly on the opposite side of the room. He moved to step past the still topless teenager, but Tony stepped with him, effectively blocking Steve again.

"I don't mind. Feel free to indulge yourself," he smirked, earning a few chuckles from the other guys standing around the change room.

Steve grimaced, swallowing thickly. He wished now, more than anything, that Bucky was there with him.

_They'd first met when they were in elementary school, in kindergarten. It was during free time – Steve was by himself playing with the farm animals, and another guy had come over to snatch the toys away. He could remember the kid knocking him over and laughing about how small he was. Steve had been scrawny for the majority of his life, and being small was accompanied with being sensitive to the world around him. So, it wasn't much of a surprise that he ended up curled in a ball on the floor crying, which only egged on the other guy to hit him again. _

_And then someone taller had punched the bully right in the nose and sent him crying to the teacher._

"_Hey, are you OK?" the boy had bent down next to Steve, frowning in a genuinely concerned way. "That wasn't very nice. You had the toys first," he had said seriously, while helping Steve sit up._

_Steve had been surprised anyone wanted to help him because he was so shy. "Thanks," he'd muttered, managing a small smile. _

_The guy grinned back and said enthusiastically, "My name is Bucky. We should be friends."_

And ever since then he'd always been there next to Steve. Every single time he'd been picked on by bigger guys, Bucky had always been there to protect him. Steve stayed tiny up until grade 8, and then some miracle caused him to grow out, and he even started going to the gym (which had never helped before).

He was stronger now, and tall, and he supposed well muscled, but he wasn't used to using it. He had always been the small kid with the badly proportioned body. Through grade 10 and 11 Bucky insisted he should try to seem a little more aggressive, but Steve had never used his strength unless he needed it. He was never beat up since then, but that didn't stop bullies from verbally abusing him, because he never did anything about it. It was still Bucky yelling at them and coming up with some smart comment to keep them at bay.

Now he was completely alone to deal with them himself. Steve knew it was ridiculous to feel so offended by Tony – he should just do something Bucky would have done. But he hated thinking he was ever inflicting a form of pain on anyone after going through everything he had as a child.

"If you don't mind, Tony, I would like to get changed," he finally sighed, trying not to let any of his inner emotions show.

"Whatever you want, Stevie," Tony simply shrugged, though he looked a tiny bit taken aback, as if he had suspected harsher words.

Steve stiffly walked past them, the hand he was carrying his gym bag with still clenched tightly over the material. He would just have to suffer through this class, he supposed.

The entire time he was changing, though, he could practically feel Tony's eyes on him. He tried his best to ignore looking in the direction of him and his friends, but it felt like everything he did was being judged by the group of boys. It was almost a blessing when the teacher came in and told them to get out on the track to warm-up.

For the next part of class, Steve was blessedly left alone. He fell into a comfortable rhythm when he got to the track, feeling a little bit more like he was at peace. Running always cleared his head, and he was pretty good at it. He'd even joined the cross country club with Bucky at his old school.

Steve set a pace then let his mind wander. The steady beat of his feet hitting the ground lulled him into a happier place, back to when he used to race the others across the tiny field his old school had, from the creaky wooden bleachers to the portables. Steve had won almost every time, much to his surprise. He'd even gained a bit of respect for his newly discovered talent.

Though he supposed that was all gone now.

"Hey, Stevie, still going a bit slow, are we?"

Steve blinked in surprise, stumbling slightly. He really shouldn't have been shocked. There was Tony, keeping pace easily beside him with that superior grin he always had plastered to his face. His hair was slightly damp with sweat and partially stuck across his lower neck and forehead, while the rest of it was pushed back by wind.

"It is called a warm-up," Steve replied evenly, quickly staring straight ahead again.

Tony let out a small 'hmmpf' and sped up slightly, glancing back as if challenging him.

Steve really shouldn't have let it get to him. He shouldn't have lengthened his stride, allowing his body to carry him forward faster. But this was the one thing he was good at, and damn if Tony Stark was going to beat him at racing.

The two guys slowly picked up the pace, each moving a little ahead of the other until they were matched again. Steve kept his breathing regular, and he knew he could still go quite a bit faster. Tony, however, was starting to breathe harder. Steve allowed a tiny smirk to splay across his lips before he pushed himself past Tony and away from him, easily leaving his classmate in the dust.

It felt really good, knowing he had finally beat him at something, even if the victory was going to be short lived.

Sure enough, the coach quickly called everyone to come to the middle of the field, and Steve had to slow down to head over to whatever they were going to do next. He did, however, glance at Tony once or twice to see an odd expression on the guy's face that he hadn't seen before. Bewilderment, maybe?

"Since it's the first day, we're just going to have a couple games of soccer. Tony, Darren, split up and pick teams."

Tony and another, overly tall and muscled guy headed to the front, both playing a quick 'rock-paper-scissors' game to see who would choose first. Darren won, and picked some slim guy from the back.

To Steve's utter surprise, Tony immediately said, "Rogers."

He stood there for a second, then reluctantly walked over to stand behind his brown-haired classmate, without actually looking into his eyes.

The rest of both teams were picked and the game ensued.

Predictably, Tony had chosen most of his friends, and the chemistry between their team made them nearly unbeatable. To Steve's surprise, Tony had a load of strategic ideas, all of them much cleverer than he would have thought up. Sometimes Tony even had to slow down to fully explain his plan to the other team mates (at which times he actually looked mildly annoyed). It was odd seeing that sort of intelligent side to the person Steve had deemed just another stuck-up rich kid.

Even more surprising was that everyone treated him as another team member. There was no time for pointless feuds when they had a game to win, and he even caught Tony smiling at him a couple times.

Steve wasn't amazing at soccer, but he was fast, so Tony and him made a good team. He'd weave around all the opposing team's players and pass to Tony, who would use his crazy calculations to get the ball in the net every time. For those forty minutes, Steve almost felt like he was a part of Tony's group of friends. Though Steve would never admit it, he kind of like the feeling.

He should have known it was strictly a game, though. The second the captain called an end to the match and Tony's team cheered, Steve was effectively pushed away from the group as the others headed together to the change rooms without giving him so much as a pat on the back. In fact, Tony was the only one to look back, and it was only to smirk at him.

Steve let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck before following after them more slowly.

Thankfully, there was no opportunity afterwards for Tony to tease Steve more. He apparently had to leave right away, and didn't have any time to so much as wink at him.

Eventually the whole change room emptied and Steve was left alone. He slowly gathered his stuff, content by himself rather than out surrounded by people.

The click of the door only made him tense for a second before the coach walked in, and Steve visibly relaxed.

"Rogers!" The coach barked, grinning widely as he came over to roughly pat Steve on the back. "You have a good set of legs on you, boy. You interested in joining the cross country team? We're short a few people now the older kids have graduated."

Steve smiled back, unable to contain the small flicker of joy that came with someone noticing that _'hey, you're actually pretty good at something'_.

"Yeah, I'd love to join," he answered quickly. The coach let out a triumphant 'harrgh' sound and smacked Steve on the back again.

"Great! First meeting is next month, on the fifth. Mark it down, and make sure you're there," he said, then sauntered out of the change rooms towards the little office connected to it.

Steve turned back to his stuff, considerably brighter than he was before. He felt energy surge through him now, and was suddenly tempted to go out and run a few more laps.

Maybe he could survive school here.


	4. Chapter 4

_**Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters, nor do I profit from this writing. It's purely for my own and other's enjoyment.**_

**Author's Note: **I feel like I apologize for taking forever to finish a chapter each time I get around to posting one haha. Oh well, once again, sorry this took forever. I did make this chapter extra long though! I hope you all enjoy :) And I love reading reviews, so don't be shy to let me know what you think. I appreciate constructive criticism as well.

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Another day passed, and then another, and finally a whole week went by without Tony saying a single word to Steve.

Steve walked into Physics the next morning, prepared for an onslaught of different tricks and taunts, but Tony didn't even look at him. For the whole day, Steve was certain that Tony was playing some weird trick on him, but even after gym they didn't say a single thing to each other. No random smirks, or bumps, or trips, or jokes, just an awkward silence that Steve should probably be relieved about.

It wasn't like he _enjoyed _getting taunted, but it seemed so odd now that Tony would drop absolutely everything. When he voiced these concerns to Natasha, she simply laughed and told him he should be thankful the rich kid decided to go easy on him, and that maybe it was just a 'first day sorta thing'.

Still, something didn't feel right about it.

Monday morning, after a blessedly quiet weekend filled only with books and homework, Steve was in a decidedly good mood. When he walked into Physics, he didn't glance at Tony once, just wandered back to his seat next to Tasha.

"You look disgustingly happy today," she commented, smiling coyly. Steve grinned back, nodding.

"I'm going to have a good day today," he told her firmly. She laughed, raising her eyebrows.

"You so sure about that?" she asked, glancing over his shoulder in the direction Steve knew Tony sat.

Steve just snorted, refusing to look back. Tony hadn't even glanced at him all last week, there was no reason he would be looking now. Besides, Steve certainly didn't want to see that smug smirk that happened to light up Tony's brown eyes with that bright, humorous light that rarely touched them otherwise-

No. Definitely better not to look.

"I am going to have a good Monday. And no-one is going to ruin my spirits," he said again, and Tasha laughed quietly as Professor Banner got up to start chattering on about the new unit they were going to start.

The class went by relatively slowly, and Steve did his best to focus on each new concept Professor Banner introduced. He found this unit easy, and actually began to enjoy himself. One of the pleasant things about Steve was his love for learning new information. He wasn't exactly eager to know _everything_, but he found that catching onto something quickly had a very satisfying effect.

The whole class went by and, by the end, Steve was sure he actually would achieve his happy Monday. He was gathering up his stuff for his next class, wondering idly what new project they would start on, when a small cough from behind him stole his attention.

Steve glanced over his shoulder, expecting Natasha or one of the quiet kids at the back that occasionally asked him about homework, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he was met with Tony's every day smirk.

Steve cleared his throat, trying to rid the sudden bubble that seemed to have lodged itself there.

"What do you want?" he asked cautiously, shifting towards the desk to continue grabbing his stuff. Any sort of distraction from Tony's knowing eyes (or toned chest, not that Steve was _exclusively_ looking, it just happened to be right there) was welcome.

"I was just wondering if you would like to sit with me at lunch today."

Steve stopped what he was doing abruptly. He turned to look at Tony incredulously, unsure whether or not he was supposed to laugh.

"I- excuse me?" he asked, frowning.

Tony shifted his weight slightly, though he was still smirking. "I asked if you would like to join me for lunch. You're always off by yourself, so I thought I would extend a hand of friendship."

Steve continued staring at Tony. Was this a joke? Some elaborate prank he had planned? Was that why Tony had completely ignored him – to set him up for this? Steve could think of no reason Tony would genuinely want to hang around him. He made it perfectly clear that Steve _shouldn't_ try to hang out with him. So what the hell could have possibly sprung this?

Unable to form any of that into words, Steve eventually managed, "I don't eat alone."

Clearly this wasn't what Tony was expecting – Steve hadn't really been expecting it to burst out, either – so he quickly tacked on, with bright cheeks, "Natasha. We sit together, and I couldn't leave her alone."

Steve thought this would be a good enough excuse, so he grabbed his things and made to step towards the door, but Tony suddenly grabbed his arm and effectively anchored him in place. Steve forgot to breathe for a second as tingles raced along his skin and he suppressed a shudder.

"She can come with you, of course," Tony smiled, his eyes glinting with something Steve couldn't place. The offer seemed almost genuine… But that was a stupid assumption to make.

"Please, Steve?" he added, and suddenly Steve was very aware of how close they were, and the puppy dog eyes Tony was casting at him melted all his insides until he couldn't form proper words and managed only a few syllables.

"O-Ok."

"Great! See ya at lunch, Stevie," it was only as he sauntered towards the door that Tony finally released his grip on Steve's arm, and Steve felt his knees wobble slightly. He reminded himself to breathe as he slowly followed, dazed. For a moment there, if he wasn't mistaken, he actually saw Tony's expression change from 'dominating power' to 'please?'.

Steve just hoped Tasha didn't mind what he signed her up for.

Art went by way too quickly, and suddenly lunch was there, and Steve realized what he would have to do. He would have to walk across the entire cafeteria, just to get to the middle where Tony and all of his other friends sat, and then face every single one of them. So many things could go wrong, even assuming Tony really did want to talk to him.

Steve had nearly lost his appetite by the time the lunch bell rang, and he slowly went to grab his lunch from his locker. He met Natasha by the stairwell, per usual, and she started on about her second class and how, "That kid in the back _still _won't shut up!" until she seemed to notice Steve's out of character silence.

"Ok. What happened to burst your happy Monday bubble?" she finally asked, throwing Steve off a bit. They were basically at the cafeteria, and suddenly all he wanted to do was go to English.

"Well… Tony came up to me after class," he started, and Tasha gave him a look that very plainly said 'I told you so'. He grimaced, continuing, "And asked me to sit with him at lunch."

Steve had been expecting a gasp from Natasha, or for her to burst out laughing, or try to talk him out of going because Tony had definitely planned something, but instead she stared at him incredulously.

"Are you serious?" she asked.

Steve frowned slightly, nodding. "Yes, of course I'm serious. But I think maybe-"

"Steve. Tony never asks anyone to sit with him. Ever. Not even for a prank," Natasha said very slowly. "He's never taken anything that far, actually, in any way."

Steve blushed again, though he wasn't sure why. "Guess I'm a special case," he sighed sarcastically, but Tasha shook her head, eyes wide.

"No, I don't think… I don't think it's a joke," she said, biting her lip. "Well, you definitely have to go over."

Steve opened his mouth in surprise, though nothing came out for a minute. Finally he said, "Really?"

"Yeah. I think you should go. It might change your entire status," she smiled lightly, though a quick flash of hurt crossed her eyes.

_Oh, right_. Steve grinned for a second, staring at Natasha until she ended up loudly asking, "What is that look for?"

"I may or may not have mentioned I couldn't leave you alone. And Tony may or may not have invited you to come too."

Natasha stared at Steve, completely expressionless. Then she hit him, causing him to splutter in surprise while she let out a groan. "It's leaning towards the 'may', yeah? I'm going to kill you for this, Rogers."

"Hey, I thought you wanted to be at the popular table."

"Not if I have to suffer through the idiots that sit there! I- Ok, you know what, fine. You need as much morale support as possible. Just don't expect me to enjoy this," Natasha huffed, and Steve hugged her quickly.

"Thank you!" he smiled, genuinely grateful he at least wouldn't have to walk across the whole cafeteria alone.

"Yeah, yeah. Let's just get this over and done with."

Steve had expected people to stare and whisper, but he hadn't anticipated the amount of it. It seemed every single person in the school was watching him and Natasha with prying eyes, waiting for them to stop somewhere, only to keep moving closer and closer to Tony's table and cause their expressions to descend further and further into disbelief.

"This is extremely awkward," he muttered under his breath to Natasha, who was determinedly looking forwards, though her face had paled slightly.

"Yeah," she finally muttered back, giving him a sour look as they got closer to the middle of the cafeteria.

Once they were within a few feet, Tony swivelled to meet Steve's eyes. He gave him a wide grin and waved him over, before turning back to his friends – several of which looked a tad confused.

Steve could feel a blush rising up his cheeks again, but he fought down the feelings.

Once they got to the table, Steve stood next to Tony, unsure what to do. There wasn't a whole lot of room around the little lunch table.

"Here, you can sit next to me," he offered, shifting over to give Steve enough room to squeeze into a small spot. He managed to fit in, but not without squishing up close enough to Tony to have their thighs pressing together and their shoulders grazing.

Across the table, Natasha ended up being waved over by one of Tony's friends, Clint, and sat squished between him and a burly looking guy with shoulder-length blonde hair. Steve exchanged a glance with her, shifting uncomfortably in the new setting.

"Everyone, this is Steve," Tony gestured towards him with his head, "And Natasha."

For a minute it was awkward, but then the golden hair boy next to Natasha clapped her on the shoulder and started talking in a loud voice, carrying on whatever conversation had been started before. Steve began slowly nibbling at his food, half listening to the others chatting, and half focused on the feeling of Tony pressed up beside him. It was oddly intimate, and while unnerving for Steve, Tony seemed completely at ease. In fact, he was almost leaning _into _Steve.

The rest of lunch went by relatively quickly, and it wasn't until the end that Tony actually turned away from the others to face Steve.

"So, have you enjoyed your first week at this lovely school?" he asked, as if they were already completely acquainted.

Steve stared at him, swallowing thickly before shrugging and offering a small smile to reply, "It's all right."

He still didn't know what to make of this sudden plight for friendship from Tony. What changed that suddenly made Steve a worthy friend?

"What classes do you have? Besides physics and gym, of course," Tony tacked on a squinted smile that Steve hadn't seen yet. Something flipped in his stomach at the sight, and he had to mentally slap himself to answer.

"Oh, ah, art and English. How about you?"

"Chemistry and entrepreneurship."

And that was how Steve and Tony first got to know each other. Steve learned that Tony was from a wealthy family, based off his father's many famous creations. He was mostly home alone, and lived in a huge place – the Stark tower, how had Steve never connected that? – with only someone named Jarvis as company.

Tony learned more about why Steve moved, and how he had gotten into the school. He found out about Steve's old home, and his old friends, and how he had started track and field back there.

It was a surprise when the bell rang and Steve realized he'd told Tony Stark all about his past.

"It was nice talking to ya, Stevie. You're coming tomorrow too, right?" Tony asked as he stood up, offering one of his trademark smirks that Steve had come to realize was the equivalent to a smile for Tony.

He nodded, offering his own small version of a smile. "Yeah, sure. If you don't mind."

"Of course not. You should bring Tasha along too – she seemed to get on well with Clint."

Steve glanced over in surprise to see Natasha was, indeed, engaged in a conversation with Tony's friend. She gazing up at him with a ridiculously happy expression.

Steve let out a surprised laugh. "I guess so," he mused.

"Well… I guess I'll see you in gym?" Tony said, backing away a few steps. Steve nodded, watching as a quick grin spread across Tony's face.

"Great. See you then, Stevie," he waved lightly before turning and walking off.

Steve watched him go, feeling his heart tripping over itself again. Tony Stark was definitely going to be the death of him – or at least give him some sort of migraine from the sudden changes in personality.

He let out a sigh, rubbing the back of his neck as he headed to English. What had he gotten himself into?


	5. Chapter 5

_**Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters, nor do I profit from this writing. It's purely for my own and other's enjoyment.**_

**Author's Note: **Finally got this piece done! Also, massive thanks to my incredible new beta, Blondygirly98

* * *

Steve soon learned it was impossible to escape Tony Stark. It seemed, ever since that first meeting, the dark-haired, king of school popped up nearly everywhere. Steve still wasn't sure what he had done exactly to change their stupid fights into unsteady (yet nice) chats, but now that the door had opened, it seemed there was little chance he would be able to close it.

Tony had found ways of contacting him in nearly every class. He even sat next to Steve one day in Physics, kicking Natasha out of her regular seat to go sit next to Clint – which, to be honest, didn't seem to faze her in the least. She and Clint had nearly been hanging off each other lately, and Tasha always turned bright red when Steve teased her about it, which more or less confirmed his thoughts.

It seemed there was always something new for Tony and Steve to talk about, and Steve ended up in stitches from laughing so hard more often than not. Professor Banner seemed to be telling the two of them off every couple minutes, but not harshly enough to believe he was truly upset by their laughter.

English and art class had also become nearly unbearable to sit through. Steve found his mind wandering back to past conversations with Tony, when he'd made the other teenager laugh, or caused one of those surprised smiles that Steve loved so much. He found he was beginning to search for deep brown eyes everywhere he went, and even looked forward to random bumps in the hall and a devilish laugh that made Steve jump, but lit up Tony's face, so he didn't really mind.

Gym was becoming ever more interesting as well, and Steve had somehow found himself moulded into Tony's group of friends. He still caught them staring at him occasionally in something similar to disbelief or surprise, but none had been ill-welcoming, and Steve actually came to like most of them. They weren't nearly as thick-headed as everyone thought them to be – they just had a knack for constantly getting in trouble.

After barely a week of Steve and Tony's new friendship, while Steve was idly listening to his English teacher ramble on about Shakespeare, his phone buzzed lightly in his pocket. He almost jumped in surprise, partially because no-one ever texted him, and partially because he had been daydreaming about… Well, daydreaming.

Steve glanced once at the teacher to make sure she wouldn't notice, then flipped his phone out to an unknown number.

**Inbox:** Unknown

_**Hey sexy, how's it going? ;)**_

Steve blushed, gaping down at his phone in surprise.

**Sent:** Steve Rogers

_**I'm sorry, but who is this…?**_

Steve glared at the text for a couple minutes, wondering whom he'd given his number to that would show up unknown. He hadn't given his number to anyone at this school, aside from Natasha, and he somehow figured she wouldn't text him something like that. Another buzz jolted him from his thoughts.

**Inbox:** Unknown

_**Don't tell me you've already forgotten!? How will I ever go on! My entire life has been a lie!**_

Oh.

**Sent:** Steve Rogers

_**Tony? How did you get my number?**_

**Inbox:** Unknown

_**How did you know it was me?**_

Steve chuckled lightly, quickly adding the number to his phone.

**Sent:** Steve Rogers

_**Because no-one else I know is that dramatic.**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Too true. To answer how I got your number, I may have bribed one of your friends.**_

**Sent:** Steve Rogers

_**You traded my number with Tasha for Clint's, didn't you?**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Well. Maybe. I am almost worried at how well you know me after a few weeks. But then again, I am Tony Stark, who doesn't know about me? ;)**_

Steve rolled his eyes, but laughed under his breath.

"Ehem," a voice interrupted his thoughts, and he glanced up in horror at his English teacher. "Care to pay attention, Mr. Rogers?" she asked, glancing at his phone pointedly.

"Er, right, sorry, I'll… I'll put it away now," he stuffed his phone back in his pocket, trying not to notice the stares of the other kids in the class. He cleared his throat slightly, willing his face not to turn tomato red, but he was probably failing.

His teacher eventually walked away, but Steve didn't dare respond. Not even when his phone vibrated another six times throughout the end of class. Steve desperately wanted to answer, or at least see what Tony was going on about now, but he couldn't with the teacher's beady eyes still trained on him. It wasn't until the bell rang that he was finally able to flip out his phone again and check the next messages.

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Steve? I didn't scare you off, did I?**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Is it considered creepy that I traded Natasha for your number? I was just bored and you're interesting to talk to.**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**I really didn't mean to sound full of myself. Ok, maybe I did, and I suppose I am quite full of myself, but I can try to stop if it bugs you that much.**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Try. No promises.**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Ok, ok, I can try to promise then.**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Should I just assume I'm a complete menace and pretend we've never talked?**_

Steve grinned in spite of himself, a weird fluttering twisting his stomach. Did Tony Stark just offer to try and be nicer for him? Was that even heard of? His heart was beating very fast when he replied.

**Sent:** Steve Rogers

_**You idiot, I almost got my phone taken away, so I couldn't reply. If you being full of yourself bugged me, I wouldn't be able to sit in a room with you for more than two minutes.**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Steve! :) Oh thank god, I thought I would actually have to try and care about everyone else.**_

**Sent:** Steve Rogers

_**You know, you might consider caring about others a**_ little_** bit more.**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**But that's so much effort…**_

**Inbox:** Steve Rogers

_**How do you even have friends?**_

**Inbox:** Tony 'too-annoying-for-his-own-good' Stark

_**Says my friend. Aw, you all love me though ;) Anyways, see ya in a few**_

The texting continued over the next couple days, and Steve found a large portion of his night being taken up talking to Tony. You would think after chatting almost every moment of the day they would run out of things to talk about, but there always seemed to be a new topic popping up, or something else for Tony to complain about.

Strangely enough, it was only until Steve stayed up until nearly three in the morning talking to Tony that he realized this was different from any friendship he'd had, and, judging by the flutters in his stomach, possibly moving towards…

Steve shoved those feelings down, anxiety flaring up in their place. No, he didn't _like_ Tony, that was stupid. He didn't find his eyes endearing, or try to make him smile every time they were together, or looked forward to seeing his figure in the halls…

Oh god. Steve buried his head in his pillow, ignoring the twist in his stomach. This could be an issue.

After his mini-revelation – the one that Steve continued to deny and shove down, deciding it was just because Tony was popular, and a great friend – Steve kept his distance from the dark-haired teenager for a few days. He knew Tony must have noticed his odd behavior, but he never mentioned anything about it, for which Steve was grateful. Still, Steve found he couldn't be cold for very long, and was soon attached to Tony again.

It was getting close to the point of obsession, Steve realized one day, but not just for him – for Tony too. They did everything together, and when they weren't together, they were talking or texting or thinking about the other one. _It must be unhealthy_, Steve thought, but he couldn't make himself stop. Something about Tony was addictive.

At least for the most part they only stayed beside each other only through school. Until, that is, at the end of PE when Tony asked if Steve wanted to come over and hang out.

"We can watch a movie or something? My dad has a mini theater down stairs, so it's worth seeing," Tony winked, though there was a serious glint to his eyes, almost as if he was worried Steve would say no.

"Yeah, I'd love to come over," Steve smiled, and the returned grin Tony shot him was definitely worth the sudden nervous drop in his chest.

He was just going to hang out at a friend's. Nothing to be nervous about.

_Then why __was his heart beating so fast?_


	6. Chapter 6

_**Disclaimer – I don't own any of the characters, nor do I profit from this writing. It's purely for my own and other's enjoyment.**_

**Author's Note: **Finally got another chapter done! Hope you all enjoy. And thanks for reading :) Also, another big thanks to my wonderful beta, Blondygirl98!

* * *

Tony met Steve after school the next day out in the parking lot. Just standing underneath the sun, dark hair glistening, and clothes hugging every curve of muscle, Tony looked like some sort of Greek Adonis. Steve's stomach did some weird shivers as he walked over, and positively flipped when Tony looked up and grinned at him. Steve had to fight his cheeks to keep the blush he could feel creeping across them to a minimum.

"Hey, Stevie! You ready to see my humble abode?" Tony asked, smirking.

"I doubt anything about you is humble, Stark."

Tony snorted, clapping a hand to Steve's back, and leaving it there to steer him towards what he assumed was their mode of transportation. He was expecting a fancy car from the rich genius, but definitely not a black, f430 spider Ferrari. Steve's eyes widened slightly as they got closer to it. How had he never noticed this in the parking lot before?

Steve wasn't a huge fan of cars, but when he was younger, Bucky had had a fair amount of calendars with new, snazzy models that they often dreamed of driving. This one had been in his 2009 calendar, and the two of them decided it was their favorite out of the book.

"You drive this?" Steve finally managed. He glanced up at Tony, only to realize the other guy had been staring at him, once he cleared his throat and glanced away.

"Yeah, she's one of my father's old cars," Tony shrugged, though a faint smile seemed to hover over his lips.

"I can't believe this is the first time I've seen it," Steve admitted, holding his hand just above the side of the car, as if afraid to tarnish it by touch. "This is one of my favorite models."

Tony seemed to light up for a second. "Is it really?" he asked, then seemed to compose himself, and his mouth slipped back into its regular smirk. "I'm not surprised you haven't seen it. I usually drive a silver Porsche."

Steve made a small choking noise, turning to Tony with even wider eyes than before. Tony took one look at his expression and burst out laughing.

"My dad has a lot of old cars, ok? I just figured you might like this one."

Tony's expression actually seemed to soften for a second, and Steve let his words sink in, until his heart was beating so fast he thought he may pass out before he even sat in the car. Tony had driven this car today, for the sole chance that he thought Steve would like it? Did he do that for other friends? Why did it seem so significant to the franticly beating organ in his chest?

"Well, don't just stand there, get in," Tony eventually laughed, walking around to unlock the doors and slide in. Steve carefully followed, half his mind preoccupied by questions – _Was Tony thinking about me? Does he think about me often? _– and the other half focused completely on not scratching the car.

Steve managed to push down his erratic emotions for the ride, however, and relaxed back into the seat. Until, that is, Tony sped off at record breaking speeds, and weaved so quickly in and out of streets it was a miracle they didn't get several tickets, let alone one. Still, the car was smooth, and for the most part Steve found himself laughing and singing along with Tony to songs on the radio (to Steve's surprise, the dark-haired teenager was quite good at singing, unlike his own mediocre voice – but Tony seemed to enjoy it all the same).

When the two finally pulled up at Tony's house, Steve really shouldn't have been surprised at how huge it was, but holy – it was _huge_. Steve felt his breath leave him for a second as he slowly got out of the car to follow Tony towards what he would only have called a mansion. For a second, he was reminded of that first day of school, when he'd faced the colossal building – except this was so much more impressive.

The driveway looped around up to the front of the house, which is where Tony parked, apparently uncaring of anyone else driving up. He jumped out of the car and headed for the large, double door entrance, pausing only to watch Steve with an amused smile.

Steve was still gaping, taking in the enormous house, complete with pruned hedges and a small fountain out front. Tony was still smirking once he finally got to the doors, and they swung open to a huge foyer. The mansion was a perfect mix of modern and old fashioned. New furniture was propped against walls, to go with coloured vases, and other assortments of objects Steve honestly couldn't put a name to.

Seeing him staring, Tony explained, "Those are some of my dad's creations. Most of the ones on display are useless now – all the good ones are down in the lab."

Steve blinked a couple times, trying to re-focus on Tony. A _lab_? "I can't believe this is your house. Mine would fit in this room alone," he chuckled lightly.

Tony shrugged, looking almost embarrassed. "I told dad it was too flashy, but he seems to enjoy it, and the parties are fantastic."

"I can imagine that," Steve laughed, looking around once more before Tony flicked his head towards a large staircase heading upstairs.

"We can drop our stuff off in my room, then go pick a movie."

Steve followed Tony wordlessly, his stomach doing a couple more flips at the prospect of seeing the other boy's room. It was the third door down the left side, and the only one that hadn't had a neat metal plate describing what it was (the first had said 'Bathroom', and the second 'Billiard Room').

Tony glanced back at Steve once before swinging the door open and stepping inside. Steve had been expecting something flashy and impressive, but Tony's room was relatively simple. A queen sized bed was pushed up between the left wall and the one with the door in it. Across the room were two glass paneled doors, leading out to what looked like a balcony. On the right side of the room, there was a large desk and a dresser. The desk was littered with bits and pieces of countless objects, and the metal things shoved around the bottom of it resembled some of the creations in the foyer.

The room was very clean aside from the random experiments strewn across the floor, and the bed was made. The flooring was hardwood, but a thick carpet was spread out through the middle of the room, giving it an overall homey feel.

Tony dropped his stuff on his bed, then turned to look at Steve expectantly, as if he were waiting for him to say something.

Steve smiled slightly, going to put his own stuff down next to Tony's. "Your room is really nice," he finally said, unsure how to mold his emotions into words. Little currents seemed to be travelling up and down his spine.

"Really? Everyone seems to think it's pathetic after seeing the rest of the house," Tony grinned, but there was a worried glint to his eyes, as if he was actually scared Steve wouldn't approve of him. The thought completely baffled him.

"I like your room the best so far," Steve said firmly. Tony raised his eyebrows in surprised, but his face quickly melted into a pleased smile. Steve smiled back, feeling his chest start to clench at how cute Tony looked.

Steve blinked a couple times in surprise at his own thought, and quickly shoved those emotions back down, clearing his throat.

"Hey, well, I'll get Jarvis to make us some popcorn, and we can go watch a movie downstairs," Tony eventually suggested, his smile a little tighter this time. He seemed to be gauging Steve's reactions, which didn't help the blonde relax. God, what would happen if Tony ever figured out how he felt? Steve could barely admit to himself how he felt, let alone anyone else. Maybe coming here was a bad idea.

Steve followed after Tony though, as they headed down into the kitchen. This, like the rest of the house, was massive. It also had a lot of machines, most of which Steve couldn't identify. He found himself bending to examine a couple as Tony walked around to duck his head around the corner of the other kitchen entrance.

"Jarvis! Jarvis, could you make us some popcorn?" Tony asked loudly.

"Of course, sir," the voice made Steve jump and whirl around. Steve had expected a butler, or maybe a chef, but certainly not a computer screen. It must have lowered out of the ceiling behind him or something, because Steve was quite certain it hadn't been there a second ago.

"Wait, Jarvis is a computer?" he asked in surprise. Tony gave him one of those 'yeah, obviously, do you even have a functioning brain' looks, and shook his head slightly.

"What, did you think he was a maid or something? My father isn't that dependent," Tony laughed, and turned to the computer screen.

"Which brand do you desire?" the computer asked.

"Whatever's there," Tony waved a hand, and a couple of whirrs rang through the kitchen before a package was deposited in the microwave, which automatically turned on. In the mean time, Tony had wandered over to the fridge to grab a couple of flavored drinks.

"You… Have a computer programmed to make you popcorn?" Steve asked incredulously.

"No, of course not," Tony grinned, "It does a lot more than make popcorn."

Wow. His dad must be really smart, Steve mused, trailing a hand over the top of one of the machines.

"Are just home alone with a computer most of the time, then?" Steve asked curiously, not expecting the small wince Tony did.

"Yeah, generally. It's great," Tony flashed him another smile, but Steve could see the fake turn to his lips, and decided not to bring that up again. Maybe he was more upset that his dad was never around then he lead others to believe. It sent a small stab of sympathy through Steve's chest.

"So, what movie do you want to watch?" Tony finally asked as he took the finished popcorn and spilled it into a bowl. Steve shrugged as he grabbed the drink Tony had got him, and followed his friend further through the house.

"What movies do you have?" Steve asked, which only earned him another wide grin from Tony, who seemed to have perked up again.

"What movies _don't_ we have?"

After awhile, the two guys settled on Lord of the Rings. Tony continued telling Steve it was geeky, but Steve could tell he was secretly fond of the movies.

Apparently Tony hadn't been kidding about the actual movie theater, either. Tony led him into a small room that had some sort of video player, and stuck the movie in, before leading Steve out a small door and into a relatively large theater. There were five rows of fifteen seats or so, all set in front of a huge screen. It was not as large as an actual movie theater, obviously, but Tony's was a lot better than curling up on Steve's own couch and staring at the small TV screen he owned.

The two guys settled in the middle of theater as the movie started, and Steve found himself actually relaxing into the seat and enjoying the first part of the show. It would have been perfect, if he wasn't so aware of Tony's arm brushing against his, or the occasional glances from the other teenager. It only seemed to get worse as the movie went on, and by the end credits, Steve was back on edge again.

"I really like hanging out with you, Steve," Tony's voice took him off guard. He looked over to find Tony a little closer than he last remembered, staring seriously into his own eyes. For a second, Steve felt like he was drowning in the deep brown depths, unable to breathe properly.

"I like hanging out with you too," he finally managed, but his voice came out slightly breathy. He found he couldn't look away from Tony, however, and didn't miss the flick of his tongue against his lips. Steve swallowed thickly, and Tony's gaze darted down to his own lips for a second.

Steve could feel the tension between them and the time slow as Tony leaned forward. His mind was screaming to get away, to push the other teenager away, but he couldn't move, couldn't breathe, and then-

And then Tony was kissing him. Steve stayed stock still, frozen in shock, as Tony's sweet scent seemed to fill his nose, and his chest ached, and he felt like he had to do _something_.

So, Steve did the only thing he'd ever done from things that scared him – he pushed Tony away, unable to speak, and ran from the theater as quickly as he could, out the front door and past the driveway, until he was sprinting down the road. He felt like he was being crushed. He was scared, confused, and also felt like he might throw up, because he was running away from the only thing he wanted so badly it terrified him.

After awhile, he made his mind numb, and focused only on running. Running was a lot easier than figuring out his problems and it chased away most of his emotions, until the only thing that remained was the mental image of the hurt written on Tony's face as he pushed him away.


End file.
